La Promessa Immortale
by Angel of Neptune
Summary: Discontinued AU London, 1888: To Mamoru, this was all a game; he loved seeing Haruka suffering. Years after playing a losing game, Mamoru finally learns Haruka’s weakness: Michiru.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** La Promessa Immortale

**Author:** Kamel

**Pairing: **Haruka/Michiru

**Word Count: **

**Genre:** Romance, Drama

**Rating:** PG-13

**Feedback:** Please and thank you.

**Summary: **[AU] London, 1888: To Mamoru, this was all a game; he loved seeing Haruka suffering. Years after playing a losing game, Mamoru finally learns Haruka's weakness: Michiru.

**AN:** I already know I won't be updating this fic regularly - school will keep me busy until May and then I'll be traveling with very limited access to the internet soon after, but I hope you will still all enjoy. =)

**Prologue**

_Had the choice actually been mine to have made, I would have, without a single doubt in my mind, rather Death claim my crumbling body then now having to glide through the course of time un-phased entirely decade upon decade upon decade._

_It was an occurrence that took place just over two centuries and a quarter ago (just about, give or take a couple years), my own demise, but the day – that hot summer London day would remain with me eternally forever. With time my human life, the memories I've obtained with my human life, would fade into nothingness, but that was one day that I would truly never be able to forget. The sun was bright, scorching, but the air had been thick with humidity and the rotting smell of corpses that lay all around me, as if I didn't already have enough trouble breathing. Each breathe grew heavier and heavier, the reek of the dead and my own bloody vomit had grown even stronger. I wanted to stop, to just stop breathing. I wanted everything to stop._

_There was no reason that I should not have joined them, the corpses, I mean. I pinned myself at having not even a couple days left to live at the end of my miserable life, on that very last day. My body had grown severely weak and I could feel myself give up the fight against the disease, I was falling to my knees. Death was going to claim me one way or another._

_No one was really sure, even those in the medical field at the time, how the plague had been passed from human being to human being, how it had managed to effect and kill a fifth of London's current population at the time. It was after the Great Fire of 1666 when the theory of rats may have caused the spread of the plague came into light, just months after my own passing. They believe the fire had driven the remains of the disease out of the city. The time of rebuilding the city was a new era for the people of London, fear of death had subsided for the meantime._

_I still remember the pain, though now I can feel remotely none._

_And what a terrible pain it had been…_

_My limbs were aching, making them almost impossible to move, as if I could have moved – I didn't want to, not even a budge. Movement meant throbbing pain and it was something I no longer wished to endure, but staying still did not help either. Nothing could help you when your own skin was dying and decaying. The red spots all over my body had been turned to an awful looking black, my body, though still alive, was decomposing on itself. I was rotting away, literally, in the street. All the hospitals, doctor offices were full and the sick were then piled into the streets. There was no room, no beds, just a hard piece of cobble stone and a brick wall to rest your head against. I wouldn't have called the ones who were able to be inside lucky, nor would I say I was any better off being outside. We would all meet the same ending._

_Nights were a bit more bearable. Not by much, hardly a difference at all now that I recall more clearly._

_The blazing sun would have set; I had been relieved for that much. Nightfall offered a small serving, minuscule, of comfort away from the heat and the sweat that vanished (no longer able to run into my exposed, rotten sores), but I couldn't sleep through the sickness that had cursed my body. The fever wouldn't subside, the aching never stopped – simply twitching had become agonizing. I remember wanting it all to end, I prayed to God that I wouldn't have to see another sunrise. I didn't want to see another day, not as pathetic and inhumane as I had become. Little did I know that I would later reach a level further of that sense of inhumanity, the same time when my last wish came true, when it all ended._

He_ was there on my final night, standing over my weak, limp figure. My eyes, they had been green at the time instead of the teal color they have become now, as unfocused as they were, were able to depict a crooked smirk gracing his pale features. I can recall his wicked, light chuckle escaping his thin lips as he watched over me, radiating a God-like power over my feeble existence – and that is exactly what he was in a every twisted sense plausible. At that moment, when he knelt down in front of me, drawing himself closer towards me, he was my savior. _

_He freed me from this world over two hundred years ago; he had also trapped me within it forever, with a single 'kiss.'_

_And it's because of that single 'kiss,' I roam the streets of London now, long after my time, as an old danger rises once more. He is here again, he has ventured from the sweet solitude his castle provides in the east. Once more he hungers for the taste of English… cuisine. His targets are all the same, similar creatures, similar females, expect _her_. The only reason why he wants her is because of me._

_Because I didn't do what he wanted, I had refused to join his cause and refused to live the remainder of my eternity alongside him as a monster. He had turned me into the kind of creature I was raised to view as sinful, evil and nothing less. I was not about to give him the pleasure of my company that he so eagerly seek – the company I was willing to give her and it was because of that she was now in a great deal of treacherous danger._

_I've put her in danger, something I have never meant to have done, not to her. I would have never put her in that sort of position, a position that would lead her in being harmed. No, that would never have been my intention, not for a million years. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone, no one deserved that sort of treatment._

_Therefore it's I who has to protect her from this essence of pure evil. It is I who has to protect her from him._

_Michiru._

**Chapter One**

It had been the atrocious nature of the murder on the thirty first day of August that caused the many people of London to take extra caution while proceeding to their evening tasks and majority of which made certain they did not have to out past late while the streets were empty, not until the lunatic was caught. There were citizens that hung onto the daily newspaper like a lifeline, wanting for any new story, for any new clue that would bring this murder to justice and this case solved. The days slowly past and nothing came along; no clues had been found at the scene of the crime, as utterly messy the area had been. The murderer, whoever was behind it, had been careful; whoever it was wanted to make sure they were not to be caught any time soon.

The fact that there were no leads had placed the people on edge, especially those living in the neighborhood where the killing took place – what was to say that the murderer wouldn't return to claim another victim? What if it would be an innocent child next time? What if the lunatic slaughtered a whole family or an important political figure of their time? So many what-ifs roamed about and little answers were being provided which caused a lack of trust among the people of the city for their police force, for their judicial system. There must be something that could be done to put some of this uncomfortable tension at ease, at least make the people feel a little bit safer at night.

A bitter love story was said to have been involved – the forty three year old woman after all had trouble with her marriage. It had been a secret to no one who knew her well, the union had been troubled for some time. Perhaps it wasn't true, but it was a story that offered some peace of mind to those who were willing to take it. For others, it only continued to raise more questions and more concerns. Obviously if a person had been this sick and twisted to commit a crime of this nature upon someone else, they could potentially strike again. It was an uneasy time for everybody.

With their reputation now on the line, the police force had scheduled for different officers to patrol around the blocks during various hours of the late night and into the wee morning hours. However, this action was also nerve wrecking – if the police were reducing to play guards, then something was in the mist, they believed something else was to occur also. Whatever the case may now be, everyone was for certain – the murderer, whoever it was, had to be stopped at all cost for the sake of the city and its people.

The days were passing very slowly into one another and the dawning of the eighth of September was one that shook the fear once more into the public's hearts when another body of a woman was discovered just past six in the morning in the backyard of an apartment complex. The nature of the killing had been equally sickening, automatically linking it to the previously murdering of the thirty first of August. The lunatic was still on the loose and had the potential of striking down more women, women who had nothing in common with one another. There was no pattern and just like the scene before this one, no clues or leads to be followed either, not to the naked eye at least. The stench of the killing covered the little crime area and was only pointed out by a sensitive creature nearly four blocks away, hidden in the shadows on an abandoned barbershop and ready to rest after an evening of failed tracking.

The murderer was not about to be caught unless he wanted to be, that much had been evident to the police, the general public and now to the mysterious figure hiding away in the empty storage cell of the long forgotten shop. No one would bother her here in the sanctuary she had discovered. An electrical fire had nearly reduced the interior to nothingness, causing a mask over the exterior – no one dared to come in, no one wanted to rebuild. Good, it offered her the shelter that she needed, she could remain hidden her and stay out of the way of the public as they scrambled to reach a conclusion for this dreadful mystery; she worked at her own pace and by herself, something she had been doing for years, something that she believed wouldn't change in the near future.

Freeing herself from the dark cloak that hide her slender figure from the world, the young woman slumped down against the cool floor – the only cool thing offered in the already humid heat of summer that was seeping through the building. She leaned back, arching her head until it met with the wall of the storage room. The bangs of her sandy blonde hair barely managed to cover her lightly glowing teal colored eyes that stared off into space, blank of any God given emotion. Eight nights she had been tracking him and the only thing she discovered was he could easily slip under her nose, but she had to keep trying. She had to figure out a way to drive him out of London and back to Eastern Europe. She would rather drag him back to where he honestly belonged, but beggars can't be choosers in the predicament she found herself in.

First thing was first, however, she needed to track him down; he wouldn't be able to hide himself forever, he would slip up eventually, but how many innocent people who have to suffer before then? No, she would have to work harder to find him before he could strike again.

Her ears perked up slightly as a soft starching scurry ran across the still intact wooden floor. The young woman's head jerked up, teal eyes locking on the rodent that froze in its tracks. Without any hint of movement, the rat had vanished from its position on the floor and was being clutched tightly in her bare hand, struggling to regain its freedom from the human. It attempted to sink its teeth into the bare flesh causing the women to smirk faintly at its pathetic try to escape. Just a little squeeze and the life would be drained from the creature's being, but the tiny creature wouldn't be able to sustain her for very long – not by itself. She really should have taken care of herself during the night but her attention had clearly been elsewhere that evening. Tonight she would flee the city for a couple of hours and sustain herself, that's what she needed.

The creature gave up its vigorous attempt and now began squealing within its confinement. Freedom was no longer an option for this little guy. Not anymore. The grasp around the rat tightened as the woman's eyes narrowed, a frown etched on her thin lips as the high pitched squealing slowly came to a halt; the animal went limp in her hand, its eyes bugging out from its sockets and jaw hanging open. Rats. She hated rats, but she was not about to pass up something that would keep her satisfied even for a little while. It was going to be a long day, hopefully a dark rainy day – it would offer her a little shelter if she moved quickly, she'd be able to flee the city hours before planned. Rainy clouds weren't what one would call rare in London either; she would keep an eye on the weather and hope for the best. She did not want to have to endure the wait until sunset unless it was absolutely necessary.

However, that would also give him an earlier chance to strike once more. It was something she would have to risk; she would not be able to endure another encounter with a victim if she did not take care of herself first. It was a horrible risk, one she did not really want to take, but it was something that had to be done. Maybe he wouldn't attempt to strike during the daylight regardless of the impending horrible weather. Then again, she wouldn't really put that past him either. She couldn't pin point his actions, his desires are accurately; she wasn't even sure why he had returned to London, she couldn't be sure that he wouldn't strike another before the evening.

This whole situation was infuriating beyond belief; she hadn't been back to this city since that day and she had no intention of coming back. She had no life here anymore (or anywhere else for that matter), no family, no friends, no love. There was nothing here for her anymore, but she still felt attached – this had been her place of birth and she was not about to allow him to harm the citizens freely. No, when she got his hands on him, he was going to wish he hadn't left his country. He would regret setting foot within England once again. The bastard had taken everything away from her, he was not about to tarnish her memory of the city she loved also. She would not allow him to cross that boundary.

Teal eyes stared at the dead creature in her hand. It was beginning to grow stiff, warmth was escaping its body – cold and stiff was definitely not her preference, but it would have to do. She would wait a couple hours, keep her eye on the sky and hope that it would darken; she would deal with the rat in her hand before heading out into the street. If the weather wouldn't permit her leave, the rat would be taken care of sooner, it was as simple as that. The night had been a cloudy one, but that didn't tell her much of anything. There was a potential storm heading from the west, a rain storm, but it could disappear before reaching this point. Hopefully it wouldn't. The idea of escaping earlier than scheduled was a lovely idea. Well, not really lovely – a more preferable idea than waiting until the day's sun to set. It would make everything more practical.

Regardless of whatever course of action she would have to take, there would be a wait with hardly anything to occupy her time except the thoughts that were racing through her mind; she was still attempting to put the pieces of information together – the information collected by the police and the few ridiculous theories she had herself. Obviously, she knew who it was behind the attacks. His scent was all over the place, but he vanished without leaving a trail for her to pick up on. How was he doing that? He couldn't just vanish into thin air, or maybe she really did not want to believe that there was a possibility that he probably could.

And then the manners of the killings themselves.

Each victim was found in a messy pool of their own blood, two gashes to the neck and one across the abdomen causing the internal organs to spew forth. It was over the top and messy, calling for attention which was definitely not this style at all. Even though the man was a bit of a lunatic, at least he had the decency to be neat with his killings. Usually apparently. In the past, they never called for this much attention from the general public. Then again, the general public they were use to believed in their existent; their legend has been past down from generation to generation. Maybe that is why he had to alter his style – London was not like the lands they had grown use to. They probably couldn't leave their usual mark and be about their way, their mark would raise suspicion out here, wouldn't it?

Is that what he was playing at? She had no way of being absolutely positive about anything, not when she knew nothing about his ultimate game plan. The same questions kept rising – why London? Why now? Was this another attempt to get her on his side?

If that was the case, this would all be for nothing. She would be determined to stop him and send him back home with his tail between his legs. Hell would freeze over before she took a side with him, that much was for certain also. She would not associate herself with him, not in that sense anyway.

Teal eyes trailed over towards the dusty window; it was difficult to determine anything from something that needed that much cleaning. She placed the dead rodent on a still usable shelf next to her before taking a couple steps forward, out of the storage back room and into what use to be the main parlor of the shop. Thick layers of dust caked everything. It had been years since anyone's hair was cut here. Drawing herself closer, she noticed the dim sunlight penetrating through the dusty window. It was going to be a sunny morning – another few hours at least before the clouds would roll in. This would be an agonizing wait and that rodent was going to be just a tad bit useful.

And the wait truly was agonizing.

Minutes passed by, but they felt like hours and hours felt like eternities.

The city had become more alive with all the time that was passing. Citizens were waking up to a new day, chattering among themselves about last evenings activities. Slowly at first, the news of the murder began to seep through, began to pick up pace and spread like wildfire; it was all she could hear from a majority of them now - funny how morbid gossip worked as such.

The clouds were finally rolling in to her benefit – dark clouds, surely a thunderstorm that would provide enough cover; she could feel the steadily growing humidity. If there was one thing one could count on in London, it would definitely be its horrible weather. Her wait was almost over, it was about time. The quicker she could get out of city limits, the better. Perhaps she would be able to pick up his trail, maybe he managed to retreat outside the city without being detected. He always had tricks up his sleeve. That was another thing she was certain about when dealing with this monster.

She shifted slightly, a notion that made her feel human because it served no other purpose; she had the ability to sit still for an eternity without budging, but she did not particularly enjoy being reminded of what she truly was. These habits she picked up, that everyone took for granted, gave her a small sense that she still had her humanity; that she wasn't truly exactly like him.

A rumbling shook the old walls, rattled the shelves; the storm was coming in fast. The citizens outside were scurrying along at a much quicker pace now – some going directly inside and others hopeful that they would be able to finish their morning chores before the showers fell. A chance game with Mother Nature, that was never a good idea. Mother Nature cheats from time to time.

The lightning that followed the thunder only caused more scurrying to take place. Some of the hopefuls now had just thrown in the towel; chores could easily be done when the storm had passed through the town. Good for them, seeing reasoning was sometimes a difficult thing to do, but there were still a couple fighting their way through the wind that had picked us as well. Maybe the wind would aid her. Then again, it could also put her at a disadvantage depending whenever she was upwind or downwind from him.

If she was at a disadvantage, it would take a lot more than the weather to stop her from tracking him down; she had a put a stop to his morbid antics. She would chase him back to his homeland with his tail tucked between his legs.

In one swift motion, she was back on her feet. From her hand she dropped the dried, boney carcass of the mouse. Was there really any reason to dispose of it properly? It wasn't as if someone was going to wander into this barbershop any time soon looking for a haircut. The place had been pretty bolted shut until she discovered it and put it to good use; she was more than capable of returning it to its secure state of being also, thought she seriously doubted the fact anyone would notice a few hinges missing to a door that had not been opened in ages. Not to mention, there could be several reasons why a mouse carcass could be skin and bones.

Whatever the case, no one would notice, she was positive – unless someone was very detailed orientated. Well, that would be her luck, of course. Everything that could possible go wrong was already, why would this not be negative as well? No, she was over thinking in this matter. Of course, no one would notice something that small and insignificant. After all, it was just a dead mouse, definitely one out of many in the city.

Definitely over thinking.

But when you have all the time in the world, thinking becomes one of your abundant past times.

Quietly and in one fluid motion, the young woman reached out for the front door of the abandoned shop and pulled it out. The rusty hinges gave a low squeak as predicted for a place that has not been up kept at all. She slipped through the small opening she had offered herself before shutting the door back into its original position, clamping the lock shut forcefully. No one would be able to pull it open just as it had been before she decided to take shelter within. Good.

Even though the clouds had rolled in, casting the city in a dark shadowy blanket, it was still bright by her own standards. A quick glance of the empty street confirmed that no one saw her and that everyone had retreated away from the nasty morning storm that would soon wash out the streets – London had always been a gloomy place. Some things do not change.

A low rumble escaped the dark sky and the rain began to fall – slowly at first, but it then picked up the pace. Her teal eyes narrowed and quickly darted to the street corner where a young woman had just turned. One of the fools who thought they could possible beat the storm? Probably. She hugged a small case, a violin case, close to her chest and kept her head down as she walked hurriedly. The now damp cloth of her simple dress was clinging to her slender figure as strands of her long aquamarine hair stuck to her smooth skin. For a split second, their eyes met and the woman's steady pace faltered just a bit, setting off the previously neat pattern. Oh yes, she had gotten pretty detailed orientated with the passing time, another annoyance you begin to pick up on.

"Pardon me," she had murmured quietly as she quickly walked around.

Teal eyes watched carefully and closely; she would have responded herself, but the moment was gone. How long had it been since she last spoke? Would her voice still work properly? Whatever the case, the moment was indeed gone. The young woman was in a hurry to get out of the bad weather – not that she could blame her. She wanted out also; she could already feel her own skin beginning to heat up despite of the darkness the storm was offering. Daylight. She was not much of a fan anymore, especially after spending all that time in the hot sun while ill. The young woman had turned the corner, out of sight – she took note of the case. Had she been a musician? A talented one at that? She found herself a bit curious.

Why?

This was a world she truly had no part of anymore, curiosity could not get the better of her, especially not over some random woman carrying an instrument – though she had played the piano herself back in her own time. She knew that a lot of work went behind mastering whatever instrument. Perhaps that is why she was making a connection.

No, this was not the right time or place to be mulling this over now. She had to get out of the city until night fall and then continue her quest to find him. She was on a mission, she had to remind herself, and she could not allow for something this trivial to get in her way. He would probably pick up on the fact that she was distracted and use it to his advantage. She did not need someone to die because she was not paying attention. Definitely not.

Thunder erupted from overhead, causing her to crank her neck up slightly, but not by much. As the lightning flashed, the corners of her lips tugged into a small frown. There was no more time to be wasted and in a quick blind of the eye, she had vanished.

_**To Be Continued**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** La Promessa Immortale

**Author:** Kamel

**Pairing: **Haruka/Michiru

**Word Count: **

**Genre:** Romance, Drama

**Rating:** PG-13

**Feedback:** Please and thank you.

**Summary: **[AU] London, 1888: To Mamoru, this was all a game; he loved seeing Haruka suffering. Years after playing a losing game, Mamoru finally learns Haruka's weakness: Michiru.

**Notes: **I'm sorry it has taken a while for me to get this chapter up. School has been more then chaotic and finals are just coming to an end. I should have more time to work on this piece during the summer, but I am still not entirely sure about how quick updates will be since I'll be overseas and probably won't have access to the internet.

**Chapter Two**

In mid-run through the wilderness surrounding the city, her foot caught in between the damp ground and a stray tree root causing her to stumble onto the ground with the great velocity she had been travelling at. A mouth full of dirt was never pleasant. She pushed herself up from the small trench she had created, spitting the residue away from her mouth – such a disgusting taste but it had cancelled the sweet aroma that had been lingering there. The sweet scent of that girl from the city; she had a faint resemblance, something she could not place – as if she had seen that girl before, but that was impossible. She had not been back to London in so long, or even the country. Anyone she could have been able to recognize died a long time ago, not to mention her human memories had been faded over time.

"Your sense of balance has left you, Haruka."

That voice.

That cold, chilling voice.

Quickly, Haruka was on her feet in a blur of motion, frowning deeply; it wasn't a voice she was too pleased or keen on hearing. She hadn't been able to pick up on his scent and he managed to sneak up on her in a moment of weakness. Granted, she hadn't been able to feel the ordinary pain that was bestowed upon mankind, not for a while, but that does not change the fact she had been flat on her face; he was more than capable of causing anyone or anything pain. It was a ruthless talent of his.

For a split-second, Haruka saw him – his tall structure, dark short hair and icy blue eyes, but he instantly vanished from her line-of-sight. His movement was quick, he was always quick on the move. It was a trait he used to torment his prey, appearing to be in many places at once. It was not a pleasant way to end a life, the last thing being seen was a 'teleporting' monster. However, this time, she had been able to trace his scent to a field not too far from her position; she sprinted to where he was waiting. This was dangerous for the both of them to say the least. The cloud cover wouldn't last long, the storm was just passing through, but if this is how they would both meet their end, then so be it – Haruka didn't care as long as the world was rid of this evil.

"Dracula. Or are you still wanting to be addressed as Mamoru?" she questioned. A reasonable request. He had changed his names plenty of times since they had the… pleasure of meeting. She usually addressed him as Mamoru, the name he had given himself when they first encountered in the streets of London so many decades ago.

A smirk tugged on his thin, pale lips. "By you, my dear, call me master."

"Perhaps in your dreams, but even then I would doubt it – what are you doing in London, Mamoru?" Haruka demanded. She had to give her subconscious credit, even in that state of mind she would never give Mamoru what he truly wanted. "Why leave your precious Romania?"

"A change of scenery, my dear Haruka – Transylvania becomes quite dull after a while don't you agree?" Mamoru replied, bemused. "It's been nearly two centuries since my last visit after all.""

"Over two centuries," Haruka corrected with a snarl as fists formed at her sides. She wanted to rip his head off, she wanted to burn his body piece by piece and rid him from existence. However, the woman had questions, questions that only he could answer – not that he would answer her, he truly had no reason too. He knew Haruka would grow steadily aggravated as the time continued if she did not get her way and that would only serve to Mamoru's amusement. "You are behind the murders. Why?" she questioned. Maybe there was a small chance he would give her what she wanted, one would never know unless they tried.

A small chuckle escaped from the back of his throat; Haruka's skin crawled, she hated that cruel laugh. It hinted that she was not about to get the answer that she was seeking. He was a monster in every sense – a monster who enjoyed to toy around with people's minds and play game, the sick twisted son of a bitch. His arms folded over his chest as he shook his head in a scolding manner. "Do you honestly expect me to take a holiday and not enjoy the foreign cuisine? After all, it has been so long since I've had English blood and you will agree when I say the last I had was not what you would call… fresh-"

Before Mamoru could finish the speaking the last word that parted from his lips, Haruka dashed at him. Mamoru's blue eyes narrowed as he quickly side stepped Haruka's irrational attack. Did she honestly believe she could land a hit on him? As Haruka passed by him in a blur of dark colors, Mamoru struck her back with a swing of his arm, sending the woman flying into the tree standing a few feet away from them. Haruka struck the tree with a great velocity, snapping the truck in half as if it were nothing. The wicked man held up his bare hand towards the falling tree. The bark fell onto his hand, coming to a halt – it should have trampled him had he been a normal human man.

A monster in every sense.

"You are making a ruckus, m'dear," Mamoru smirked, tossing the fallen tree as if it were just a branch. This was a fun game, but… it was growing a bit old and a bit boring. It was always the same – Haruka would confront him, demand the impossible, grow upset and then attempt to land a strike. She needed to change her game plan, needed to be a bit more original and it was not as if she did not have the time to change her attitude. No, they had all the time in the world, the two of them.

Haruka's slender hands clutched into tight fists and she pounded them against the dirt ground, leaving behind small caved in packed tight muck. She shouldn't have been able to walk away from this – she had slammed into that thing with such great velocity, but… she too was a monster in every sense as much as she did not want to admit it. She knew that and it was his fault. It was his fault that she was this way. She also knew that she could have ended this 'life' whenever she wanted, but… then Mamoru would be free to unleash his chaos on the world. Instantly, she was back on her feet with motivation and staring him down – both glares just as icy. "These people are not animals, they are not your meals for the picking!" she snarled.

Mamoru took a step back and held out his arms to make himself a standing target, his smirk growing with Haruka's anger. "Care to take another swing, would that make you feel better?" he teased; it was taking every ounce of control that Haruka had to stop herself from attempting another strike. She wanted nothing more than to see him vanish from this world. "I've made a deal with the devil long ago, m'dear – I have no sense of right or wrong. I feel no emotion, I feel no pain. I am a God among these insects, I decide who lives and who dies – and in what manner-"

"You're a beast-"

"And you are no different from myself."

"I may be a monster, but I am no murderer!" Haruka snapped. She restrained from attacking the morals, they did not deserve something like this – no one deserved this way of life or an end that tragic. "These people have done nothing to deserve an end like this nor do they deserve the fate that you have given me! God does not strike fear-"

"Mortals should fear God, they should fear me," Mamoru replied. Of course he should be feared, Haruka was well aware of the stories that were associated with the name Vlad – Vlad the Impaler as he was once known as during his time as a mortal. When you dined with your enemies staked through the heart, a certain reputation follows you throughout time. He had been a sick man and that much had not changed at all. Just the mentioning of his name struck fear into many still to this day.

"Mark my words, I will stop you!" Haruka hissed through her clenched teeth. At this point, she was not exactly sure how she would manage that feat, but she would not rest until her mission was accomplished; she was determined to stop him. She had to stop him. If she stopped him, she would be sparing many.

He shook his head once more, slowly back and forth – taunting her; he was still amused by the entire situation. She was giving him nothing but empty threats. She did not have the necessary power to stop him, no where near it. "M'dear, before my visit is up, I will show to you, I will prove to you that you are no different from me. You were able to resist the little… mess I left you, for that I applauded you – you have more control then I believed. However, this is just the beginning," he warned.

The dark clouds were rolling through and eventually, the sun would be shining through; Haruka would not move unless he did. If she could keep him distracted, get him into the sunlight and finish him, then so be it. That would be fine by her – any way that lead to his head was fine by her. "I am not like you," Haruka repeated, her eyes narrowing. After all, she had kept her morals unlike him – not that he had any morals to begin with. "Massacring-"

"Such a strong word! Massacring! When these humans hunt down a deer, do you describe it as massacring?" Mamoru asked. He was just doing what was necessary to survive! And, well, he did play with his meals every once in a while; he liked to keep things interesting of course.

"You can't compare the life of a human being to a life of an animal-"

"A superior being compares its existence to that of lower ones, m'dear – take note," Mamoru pointed out, bemused. Even after all this time she still refused to embrace their way of life – the life he had given her. "You really should not become too attached to your food."

"I haven't eaten, not for centuries," Haruka remarked. What they had to do to sustain their being, it was not eating. The two actions should not be placed in the same level; they were in no way the same by any of her means. "I do what I must so sustain my pitiful life, to keep you in check."

At that, Mamoru could not help but laugh openly. So Haruka still honestly believed that she had the ability to stop him? To keep an eye on him? It was pretty pitiful. "Keep me in check?" he repeated, fighting back the chuckles that continued to threaten to escape. This was too rich. "You cannot lay a hand on me," he pointed out, something that had been proven time and time again over the years. "You will learn to embrace what you are soon enough – there will be a being you won't be able to resist."

Soon enough? It had been over two centuries – over two hundred years. Haruka had not tasted human blood for just as long; she admitted her actions during the beginning were not ideal by the standards she had now, but she had been a newborn. She did not have the control she had now. She did not have the power to turn the other cheek when confronted by humans. Things were different now; she now had that control after all that time. She could easily resist temptation; she could resist the sweet smell, the sweet aroma that had teased her just moments before this encounter.

The aroma that she had desperately wanted to taste, the aroma she had to run from to keep herself in check. Haruka's body became tight and rigid as the thought crossed his mind. That girl. She wanted that girl more than any other human being she had encountered; with others, she was able to ignore and not think twice. Every human had their own distinct scent that triggered different reactions, each that she had been able to ignore, but… that girl. She had a hard time with that girl; it had been a scent she hadn't encountered, not for a while. Where had she smelt that aroma before? She glared at Mamoru hard. "Why did you come back to England, Dracula?" she demanded a question he had not exactly answered.

"You have already found her, haven't you?" Mamoru responded, placing his arms behind his back. Once more, the smirk grew; he knew something that she didn't and she knew it was information that he would not give up to her. No, he would use it to torment her further. Of course. That was his nature.

"What are you talking about?" Haruka growled. Found who? That girl? That girl had no importance to her – she was just some random human Haruka had walked past in the city, nothing more. Haruka was positive of it. There couldn't have been a connection between them, it was impossible. Everyone she had encountered in the past, her old life… everything from that time period was gone.

Mamoru's blue eyes travelled up towards the lightening sky. "I believe our time has run out, m'dear," he noted.

"If you think I'm going to allow-" Haruka began, but immediately fell silent when the man in front of her disappeared into thin air – no trace. Nothing. As if he had not been standing there at all. He had powers beyond her league, something Haruka did not enjoy admitting – it meant she would not be able to stop him, that his terror would continue regardless of her actions. He had been right; however, time was running short. The storm was passing and the sun would be out and she still had to sustain herself.

**XXX**

Working in a clock shop, one would expect to go accustom to the various amounts of ticking and other sorts of odd noises the many clocks produced constantly throughout the small work place day in and day out. She had put nearly three years into this place and she still had been unable to grow use to the noise – if anything the constant ticking was a constant reminded that time was slipping by them and they were sitting here trying to sell clocks to the public when they should truly be doing more. It was a constant annoyance that she had no other choice but to deal with.

They were wasting time here; they should be out there, exploring the world and venturing away from London, from the dull repetitive city life. How long had they been stuck here? It was definitely time to move on, was it not? She wanted to be somewhere near the sea – to see the ocean, that was her dream. It would be relaxing and at the same time exciting. The ocean was always changing, always different; it would be an adventure. There was a house built along the shores of France that was waiting for her and one day she would be able to obtain it.

"Day dreaming again, Michiru?"

The young woman's aquamarine eyes that had been staring out the store front's window absent mindedly before she pulled away and she turned around to face the entrance towards the backroom. It wasn't exactly rare for Michiru to be caught day dreaming about anything and everything under the sun that did not have to do with this small shop. A faint smile tugged on her thin lips as she saw the older woman, her dear friend and employer. "It's been a slow morning, Setsuna," she replied simply, turning back to the corner. She picked up the violin case she had placed on when she entered and tucked it away under. After they closed up shop for the day, Michiru would give lessons to Setsuna's step-daughter. The little girl had been interested in the instrument since Michiru started working; she had been impressed by Michiru's playing and was determined to learn the instrument herself. Michiru was more than happy to share pointers with the young child.

"The weather is working against us," Setsuna replied, folding her arms over her chest as her garnet eyes glanced towards the empty street. "No rain, but the clouds are enough to scare the people into their homes," she grinned. She wouldn't want to be outside either right now and risk being rained on. However, there were other reasons for not venturing out.

"It is rather ominous out there," Michiru commented. It was exactly what Setsuna had been thinking. "And with all the rumors flying about its no wonder really why no one wants to be out – that woman was gutted, nearly beheaded over on Durward Street and the police have no leads." The general public was worried, paranoid that the killer could strike again – it was not just some random killing, not with the fashion of the victim. This murderer was insane, mentally unstable.

Setsuna knew of the spreading rumors of the killings, of the chilling factor that the police had no idea who was behind them. The killer was still out there, probably preparing their next strike. It was comforting to know she did not have to walk the streets during the evening hours; her home was connected to the shop. However, her employee on the other hand, she worried about. Michiru worked until close and gave Hotaru lessons afterwards – the young woman was no stranger to the late night streets. "I would feel safer if you allow Souichi to walk you home this evening, Michiru," she pointed out.

"Being a little cautious, are we?" Michiru responded, casting her attention back over to her old friend. Honestly, it was not a long walk at all. Her house was not even two blocks away from the shop and the path she took was lit by the lamp posts. Not to mention, police security would increase until the killer was found. She was still safe to walk alone, wasn't she?

"And you not enough," Setsuna was quick to come back. They had known each other for the better part of three years now, since Setsuna had moved to London from Spain after her marriage to Souichi; she had been one of the first few friends she made in this new country. She did not want to see the younger woman get hurt or even worse. They could not be too safe, not precaution was too much. "It was a woman who was killed, Michiru – a single woman roaming in the late hours of the evening or early morning."

"I hardly fit in that category-"

"Oh? The last I recall, you finger is still missing a wedding band," Setsuna was quick to reply to her friend's unfinished remark. Michiru had a quick tongue and Setsuna was just put to par with her; they made an interesting pair, the two of them. They were both full of witty remarks and both were more than eager to go neck to neck if things lead to that.

"The other part," Michiru corrected, rolling her eyes slightly. Her married? Honestly. The men here were dogs, most of them did not deserve the time of day – and comparing them to dogs gave the poor animals a bad name. They were so full of themselves, believing that the whole world should bend over backwards for them simply for being born male. She was happily single and that did not appear to be changing any time soon if she remained in this city, not that she minded at all. "I don't walk home late and I'm still fast asleep in those early morning hours," she pointed out. It was the truth, she did not see any risk factors. "Maybe this will make the walk home a bit more exciting."

"Only you would consider having a murderer on the loose exciting," Setsuna remarked, shaking her head in displeasure. There was a trace of annoyance in the older woman's voice and it had every right to be currently present there. Michiru had to take more precautions, especially during this day of age with lunatics on the run, searching to take advantage of young girls such as herself. "Do you honestly consider London to be that boring, Michiru?"

The sunlight was pouring back into the street, the storm was passing without a drop of rain (a rare occurrence in this city); the people would wander out of their houses soon enough – to buy a clock from the shop, probably not. Business was usually slow, usually dull, but as long as she was paid, she really did not complain (not too much anyway). "Every day of the same thing gets rather boring, yes," Michiru replied honestly. "But it is definitely extreme to say a murderer is exactly what this city needs, that's rather barbaric of me," she reasoned and corrected herself. "I would rather being in a foreign country – don't you want to return to Spain?"

"I think about it every once and again, yes," Setsuna answered honestly, walking over to the counter. She leaned up against it slightly, her eyes trailing from clock to clock – some had been hanging off the walls for ages. She knew it was because of Souichi that this place was still running, he made more than enough working as a doctor to keep them afloat. Keeping this shop kept her busy, running it was a hobby and she had Michiru around to keep her company when customers were few. "However, it's only natural, Spain is my home, but I have my family here in London. I have Souichi and Hotaru. Surely you feel the same way about your father, yes?" she asked in return.

Michiru was silent for a moment, but in the end she nodded in respond to Setsuna's question. Her father was all she had left family-wise, her mother had passed nearly two years ago and she was an only child – no brothers or sisters to keep her company. He was the only reason why she had been lingering here in London; she didn't want him to experience a loss of another family member. He wouldn't want to leave London with her. He was attached to the city. "Of course, I do, but… I can only remain here for much longer, Setsuna. My family moved here from France a few years before I was born – I would like to see the country, the beaches, everything," she replied with a faint sigh.

"But you aren't of France decent, correct?" Setsuna asked. If she recalled correctly, her friend came from a family of English men. The family name had been around for a while. "Your family relocated to France in the 1600s, isn't that true?"

"The Black Plague had claimed many, they wanted to stay safe," Michiru replied, nodding. Her family had not been the only one to do so – many families travelled to different parts of Europe to try to escape the plague, but the disease did not just linger in London. It spread throughout the continent, but moving provided scared people with a small peace of mind that had been desperately wanted in that terrible era. "It was a horrible time, people dying in the streets – rotting away, a live, to nothingness. My so many great grandmothers, she kept a diary of the time and she lost her lover to the plague. That's when she decided to relocate."

"A family heirloom? The diary?"

"A discovery I made in the attic one summer day," Michiru said with a shrug. It had been the summer after her mother's passing. Her father had been unable to pack away the woman's belongings. He did not want to accept the fact that she was truly gone. The task had been left to Michiru; she had packed everything away and sorted it within their attic. She had taken the time to explore around a bit as well since it had been years since anyone went through the many belongings they kept up here. "She too had been Michiru Kaioh – family name," she answered before Setsuna could ask.

"Hmm. That's an interesting find – a unique perspective of the past," Setsuna commented. "You have your own piece of history, as bleak as it is."

Michiru gave her a small nod; it was true, her own dreary piece of history. "It reads more of a love story than anything else. She was madly in love with a blacksmith and by the sounds of it, they were destined for each other," she explained, her aquamarine eyes watching the store front window, watching two old maidens walk right on by the shop. "Haruka Tenoh. I looked into the family name, but it appears to be that they were wiped out by the plague."

"Disheartening – the poor girl," Setsuna murmured, shaking her head as she frowned lightly.

_**To Be Continued**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** La Promessa Immortale

**Author:** Kamel

**Pairing: **Haruka/Michiru

**Word Count: **5,000

**Genre:** Romance, Drama

**Rating:** PG-13

**Feedback:** Please and thank you.

**Summary: **[AU] London, 1888: To Mamoru, this was all a game; he loved seeing Haruka suffering. Years after playing a losing game, Mamoru finally learns Haruka's weakness: Michiru.

**Notes: **This is the last chapter I will be able to post for a while. I will be out of the country for the next two months with very limited internet connection, but I will do my best to continue working on this piece while overseas so I do have something to post when I return.

**Chapter Three**

_Wandering around late at night was no longer a bother for her, not when she knew the outcome would result in her being in the arms of the lover she longed for. She could walk this now very familiar path with her eyes closed, she could possibly walk this path in her sleep with all the times she had been over to the shop. Yes, it was necessary to be secretive according to Haruka, it was necessary to tip toe around everyone because their relationship according to Haruka… they, the public, didn't consider it normal in their eyes. The two of them shouldn't be together, but who were they to judge? Who on earth gave them the right to judge and determine who one could fall in love with? They gave Haruka a hard time because she choose the profession of a blacksmith, a profession well suited for any given man in the city; she was constantly given a hard time because she was a woman, but did that really matter if she was good at her job? Would they criticize her the way they do now if she was a man? No, they would praise her for her amazing work. Haruka had the talent to transform blacksmithing into a form of art._

_She admired Haruka, admired the courage the woman must have in order to keep her emotions at bay and under control, the ability to keep her temper in check when being harassed by even her own coworkers. Haruka was talented in the dying art – Michiru would say this time and time again, she would defend Haruka and her ability. She truly had a gift with her hands and Michiru was able to vouch for that in more ways than one, of course. A small smile tugged on the corners of her lips, she was a bit embarrassed as to where she allowed her mind to wander, but regardless, it was the truth. Not to mention that her mind was on one track, on Haruka. She wanted so bad to see her once again and their time together (as little as it were) was quickly approaching; Michiru was eager to say the least. She walked past the darken shop; a few candles were lit inside. The business had been closed up for a few hours now. Haruka usually stayed around to clean up or finish up a project – or to wait for Michiru's arrival._

_Michiru turned the corner, heading down the alleyway towards the shop's back entrance. The front entrance faced the street, entering through meant risking being seen by curious eyes, but who else was wandering the streets this late at night? They probably wouldn't even give Michiru a second glance if she had gone through the front entrance – they probably would have other business to attend to at this late hour. It was reasoning Haruka would not have nor hear. Luckily Michiru did not mind the back entrance, she didn't mind any entrance if it brought her closer to her Haruka. The door was propped open for her to slide on through to the barely lit backroom. _

"_Haruka?" she said, quietly at first as her eyes did their best to scan the dark area she had just stepped into. She could probably work her way around the shop in the dark also if she must with all the visits she had paid over the last few months. When she got no answer, she spoke up, calling the name once more, only to be answered with a clank of a tool falling and the shuffling of feet. It took a moment for her eyes to finally adjust to the dull lighting, but she saw the familiar figure heading directly towards her. Regardless to say, her smile grew. She had been waiting for this since their last planned encounter days ago._

"_Michiru," the husky voice replied as a pair of delicate, but strong arms wrapped around her slender waist. At last, Michiru felt as if she were back at the home she had been longing for._

"_This is ridiculous, Haruka," Michiru murmured back as she shook her head, holding onto the other woman tightly as she rested her forehead against Haruka's. Their eyes met; even in the dark they were able to see each other just as clearly. All this sneaking about, was it really essential? Their time together was limited because of it – only being able to really see each other during the evening hours away from prying eyes. Michiru would give anything to be able to see Haruka in the daylight like any other couple, she wanted to be able to walk down the street with her as lovers. In reality, they did not give each other the time of day during business hours – not even a second glance as tempting as it were._

"_No. No it's not," Haruka replied, shaking her head back at the woman in her arms. Her lips lingers lingered, nearly brushing against Michiru's. It was taking every ounce of restraint in her body to keep herself from tasting the lips she had been missing for what honestly felt like an eternity. "You know what will happen… if people find out," she reminded._

"_I don't care if they find out," Michiru quickly replied, shaking her head, and she honestly did not. All Michiru wanted was happiness and that is what she had with Haruka – happiness she wanted to flaunt around, not kept secret. She pulled back slightly to better look at the other woman's facial features. "Let them find out, Haruka, because I don't care and they shouldn't either. Frankly, there's a lot more to worry about right now."_

_Of course there was more to worry about right now, thousands were dying by the week due to a disease with no cure – a disease that had returned time and time again to claim so many. The dead were starting to pile in the street, there was no room for them. Even with the illness claiming so many lives, Haruka did not want to risk Michiru's well being. She was already mistreated by many for the way she kept her appearance – boyish hair and outfits to match, not to mention this job and she was attracted to Michiru. She was supposed to be a woman, the image of a stereotypical woman society had given them – the very image she did not reflect one bit._

_Michiru on the other hand… she was accepted. Everyone loved her, a praised musician and artist from a family just as talented. And for some odd reason or another that Haruka could not figure out, she loved the blacksmith who apparently did not know her place in this society. "This is a cruel world, Michiru, and if I can protect you from it… I will," Haruka promised, gently pecking against her soft lips. Her hands trailed up from their resting place on the young woman's hips and trailed up her back, mindful of her long aquamarine hair._

"_Protect me from a world that you hide from?" Michiru questioned, her eyebrows rising slightly. It sounded a bit hypocritical to her; Haruka wanted to keep her safe from a world she lived in everyday while Haruka did her damnest to hide from it._

"_I don't hide from anyone," Haruka scoffed with a faint smirk when in reality she knew otherwise. She hid who she was to the world, but that did not mean she lived her life in shame. If she had, she would not be in this shop day in and day out. "I am who I am and the world doesn't like it, not a bit. I don't give a damn what they think about me."_

"_But you give a damn what they think about me?" Michiru then asked, pulling herself closer to Haruka once more. "You're running, you know, hiding."_

"_I do not hide, not in the sense that you are referring to," Haruka replied, her expression matching that of Michiru's. They were both being a little smudge, trying to show up the other. Michiru was not one to allow herself to be pushed around and, well, neither was Haruka for that matter. "Things are wild right now, Michiru. Nothing really makes sense, when this is all over, I promise… no more running."_

"_Nothing make sense?" Michiru repeated, now taking a full step back, breaking their embrace that each had been craving for. Her arms folded over her chest as her head lowered as the words repeated again and again in her mind. "Does that mean this does not make sense? Is that why you want to wait? To make sure that this is something that indeed makes sense?" she questioned, her eyebrows furrowing as a frown replaced her smile._

_Almost immediately, Haruka shook her head to that assumption; it was so far from the truth. "If there is one thing I am absolutely sure about in this world is the fact that I love you, Michiru, and I want nothing more than to be with you. Forever," she stated clearly, taking the step Michiru had taken back. "Please, just believe me right now. I will show to the world that you and I are meant to be."_

_Michiru sighed faintly and shook her head in return towards Haruka. "Maybe it should be you sneaking around at night to me, maybe then you'll be just as frustrated," she commented._

_Maybe it was a comment that was intended to offend, but Haruka chuckled lightly and smirked. "And risk the governor discovering me fondling around with his daughter? I think he'll have me hanged or something equally cruel," Haruka retorted. Her smirk only grew as she watched the pleasing smile return to her love's facial features. It was impossible for Michiru to stay upset at Haruka for very long; Haruka had her way with words along with other things. "Who's going to find us here? The other blacksmiths would rather drink themselves blind after shop closes, not stick around to clean up," she remarked with another chuckle that was quickly followed by a wince. Her hand flew up to the back of her neck where she felt a small, sharp pinch._

"_Are you alright?" Michiru replied, eyebrows furrowing together._

_Haruka rubbed her neck gently and then nodded her head in response. "Insect bite, nothing to worry about," she murmured in returned. No, she would not think twice about that bite inflicted upon her by the infected tick; she would not reach the conclusion that her blood had been tainted by the plague in that moment by the bite she should have definitely worried about."You have the world's most annoying critters running around in here," she added, trying to lead Michiru away from the conversation topic they had been on._

"_And that makes me feel that much better for sneaking about in here," Michiru remarked, not budging not the track they had been on._

"_Has anyone told you that you are quite the stubborn one?" Haruka asked teasingly, resting her forehead against hers._

_A smirk tugged on Michiru's thin lips as her aquamarine eyes met those of teal. There was a glint in her eye, a glint Haruka had grown accustomed to over time; Michiru could definitely be wickedly sharp. She was a double-edged sword without a doubt. "Keep it up, Haruka, and you can see how… stubborn… I can be," she replied, her sweet voice teasing the woman in front of her, the woman who pulled her closer. She was back in Haruka's strong arms._

"_I think I am more than capable of out stubborning you, my dear," Haruka murmured, as one of her hands ran down Michiru's side, down her waist and to her leg which she aided to lift and wrap around her own. Michiru would have happily obliged to being closer to her love, in a heartbeat. Haruka's hand was back around Michiru's waist as her other trailed down this time, grasping a fistful of the dress she wore before hoisting it up. Soon, it was not just their eyes that just met, but their lips also in a hungry kiss._

_XXX_

_Tonight was not different from any other night – it was still a little warm outside, a little humid, but what do you expect in the middle of the summer season after all? This was their typical weather this time of year – something they had to constantly deal with year in and year out. The only thing not typical was the many sick lining up the streets and they were growing in number. The plague had returned once more to London and there were no rooms available to the sick in the hospital, in doctor offices. Frankly, there were not that many doctors to go around and even when they were around for the patients, they really were not sure what to do to help the disease ridden people._

_And even though the night was not out of the ordinary (typical summer night with the occasional body lined up in the street), the situation Michiru found herself in and was about to find herself in was going testing her wits to the highest power._

_This trip to see Haruka had not been planned, her lover was not expecting her arrival at the shop tonight, so Michiru could only hope that she was still there working late as she usually did from time to time. She had grave news, news that was ripping away at her heart; her family did not want to stay here in London, they wanted to escape the plague. They wanted to be in a city were the dead did not pile up in the streets, they did not want to live in fear, but where would they go? The plague had been known to travel throughout Europe and without a doubt the one currently causing turmoil would do the same, but that line of reasoning did not settle well with her parents. They were adamant about the move. They would relocate to Paris until things settled down for the most part. They reassured that the move would not be infinite, but Michiru still did not want to leave. She did not want to leave Haruka behind._

_But she agreed to the move – because technically, in the eyes of her parents, Michiru had nothing keeping her in London. Her relationship with Haruka was none to no one else but the two of them. Her mother had gushed about her only daughter finding a possible French suitor in Paris and having the perfect wedding. Michiru could only offer a small, forced smile to this idea. In reality, she wanted no one else in the world but her dearest Haruka; she wanted to stay here in London with Haruka, but before she could make any decision to abandon her own family, Michiru had to consult Haruka. She could see her lover growing upset if Michiru had just turned up saying she was staying behind as her family fled. Haruka would not want to be the reason that separate Michiru from her family._

_The shop was coming up in the distance; she could make it out from here even in the dim light the street lights had to offer. Almost at once Michiru felt her stomach tie itself into tight knots, making her sick. Her eyebrows furrowed together, forming a worrisome expression that took over her facial features. Maybe it was the distance that separated her from the shop and the poor lighting that was causing her eyes to play tricks on her, but the shop appeared to be boarded up. No, that could not be right – according to Haruka, business had been good and the shop would not be closed up all of a sudden, Haruka would had mentioned something to her about it._

_With every step she took closer to the shop, the sicker she grew because realization was sinking in deadly quick. The windows had been boarded up, along with the main entrance and it was the red mark, the red x painted across the door that made her ultimately feel empty instead – it was during that moment of realization where Michiru's secret world, hidden from the public's eye, was destroyed, smashed to pieces and never to be restored again._

_That red x might as well have been the angel of death. No. It was the angel of death, without a doubt in the world._

_The plague had struck down the shop._

_Where was Haruka?_

_She didn't know when her steadily walking pace turned into a frantic run. Her body nearly collided with the door; she could not stop fast enough. Her tightly clenched fists pounded with all their might against the door, against the splinted wood. Someone was inside. Someone had to be inside – these buildings were not evacuated. The sick were kept inside along with everyone else who had been present at the time of the lock in. Haruka never missed worked, leading her to conclude that the woman was still inside._

"_Haruka!" Michiru shouted, her voice echoing in fear, in fright. Her fists continued to pound against the door despite the fact that they were growing red and raw from the abuse._

_Her body began to tremble when no answer came. "Haruka!" she repeated, her voice cracking this time. Someone just had to answer, anyone. Haruka had to be alright, she just had to be – there was no other way. She couldn't be sick. Being sick meant receiving a death sentence._

_Still no answer._

"_Ha-ru-ka!" she annunciated, her fist slammed against the door with every pause as she begged and pleaded for an answer. Tears were streaming from her puffy aquamarine eyes, down her cheeks. This could not be happening. She had seen Haruka just days before – she had been alright, she was healthy. It was someone else in the shop that had been infected and now… so would everyone else in the building, including her Haruka; she was going to lose her Haruka because of some selfish prick's actions._

_Why was no one answering? There had to be people inside, someone who could inform her of what was going on – maybe someone would tell her Haruka did not come to the shop today, that she was still at home taking a holiday (after all, the woman was a bit overworked). Yes, that had to be it – Haruka did not come to work today, she was at home, relaxing with her family because Michiru refused to believe that her lover was inside the shop wasting away._

_With all the ruckus she had been causing, it was no wonder that a uniformed officer had been able to come up behind Michiru and firmly take her by the wrist before she could cause any more of a disturbance to the neighborhood. At once Michiru felt her heart fly into her throw as she was whirled around, her eyes widened in shock and initial fear once more._

"_Madam, I am going to have to ask you to please return home," the man stated, his voice calming. Michiru could not explain it, but his present was making her feel at ease even given the current situation. His peaceful bright blue eyes were offering her warmth, inviting her in. "It is no time for a young woman such as yourself to be wandering the streets at this hour."_

_Somehow Michiru had willed herself to look away from his stunning features and to her wrist he had been holding; he had a solid grip on her and had he not been a man of law, she would have been terrified by now, but his general presence was telling her otherwise. She could trust this man and she believed every word he was speaking to her. It was dangerous for her to be wandering around the streets of London at night; she shouldn't be here._

"_And I would feel more at ease if I were able to escort you back, Madam…?" he asked, lowering her wrist before releasing his grasp._

"_Michiru," she replied. "Kaioh."_

"_Madam Kaioh, I am Officer Chiba," the man introduced, giving her a grim smile. "These are rough times we are facing, Madam Kaioh, and I would not want to see a lovely lady such as yourself get hurt because of foolishness."_

_His voice was enchanting, welcoming; she could believe every word that he spoke. Everything about him was inviting her in. "I'm sorry, officer, but… my friend," Michiru began, glancing over her shoulder towards the door of the blacksmith shop as a frown tugged on the corners of her lips. "I'm not sure of her well bouts. I want to make sure she is alright," she explained._

_The officer followed Michiru's gaze towards the door and bit back a smirk, already well aware of the fact that there were no survivors within the building – something he had seen to personally. When the woman looked back at him, the smirk was immediately replaced with a grim, seldom appearance. "I'm afraid your search has to be postponed until the morning, Madam. It is not safe," he replied. "Now please, shall I walk you back to your home?" he asked once more, offering his hand out to her._

_Michiru glanced down at his hand before taking it. "You may," she answered, walking in step with the officer. He had put her in an eerie sense of ease. His grasp this time around her hand had been light – there was no tight lock had there been previously. The officer silently watched her from the corner of his eyes as they walked down the street; he could still sense the fear in her, fear for a loved one that he had probably murdered not even hours ago. The only thing that kept him from sinking his teeth into her own delicate, sweet flesh was the absence of the thirst he had earlier quenched and her name._

_The same name that woman had shouted when he left his mark on her; this had the potential to be entertaining – watching the newly turned restrain from attacking the one she loved dearly. Oh yes, entertaining indeed._

_XXX_

The high pitch scream was still echoing in Haruka's ears as he made a dash over the rooftops throughout the city she had been patrolling for the last few hours during the evening now. The last few days had been unbearably silent, almost peaceful, but she had known better – nothing could be truly peaceful with Mamoru on the loose. Peace did not exist when that man was around, she had quickly learned many years ago. As long as Mamoru was in the area, no one would be safe; he was a ruthless killer and by the sound of things, he had just claimed another innocent victim. The victims were always innocent – no one deserved to meet an end that Mamoru had to offer.

Yes. Yes, he had. Haruka was picking up on the scent of blood, it was pouring from the wound in great amounts – the barbarian! Another life taken for the game he was playing with her; he was working her last nerve and he was well aware of the fact. He also knew that Haruka was nowhere near as powerful to actually do anything about it also. Mamoru had centuries on her, centuries of speed and power; she would not last a moment against him in a fight.

She didn't understand why he was playing this game, why all the way out here in London. It made no sense – he would have received the same reaction from her had he remained and done these actions in Romania, a land where horrific tales of the blood feeding monsters of the night were true and not just a myth as they were outside the boarders. Is that what he was attempting to do? Strike rational fear into the hearts of mortals outside his country?

Possibly no. The humans here have branded him as 'Jack the Ripper,' another man, not a vampire – though still a monster in every sense of the word.

She was getting close. The smell of the blood was growing, burning deep in her throat. It was a temptation she learned long ago to rein over. She would not give in to it, she would not become the same monster he was, and she absolutely refused to.

Haruka came to a halt just above the Hanbury Street, the smell of blood was strong and standing over the edge of the building confirmed her assumptions. The early scream came from a woman, a woman who had been brutally gutted like an animal and her throat ripped apart. Haruka's eyes narrowed at the sight of the killer standing over the victim. Mamoru stood up, sensing her presence no doubt. Their eyes met for a second, his filled with excitement as blood trickled down his chin.

Nothing but a vicious game to him, that's all this was.

Fists formed at Haruka's sides as her teeth grinded together. Damn him. He was toying with her, there was no need to have gutted the poor woman in such a manner, not when the bite along was lethal enough to take her down without a fight. She watched a smirk appeared on his cold pale face. Before she could budge, he was gone in a blur of motion, but she had his scent – she could track him and then what? She was come to that when she had him beneath her hands.

Her train of thought was disrupted, however, but a second scream. Haruka's head automatically jerked towards the sound, concluding that Mamoru had attacked once more, but realization showed her it was another woman discovering the scene of the crime. Haruka took a step back from the edge of the building in an attempt to keep herself hidden, but she did not want to disrupt her own view as well.

"Help!" the woman shouted in frantic. "Someone! Help!" She didn't get close, Haruka did not blame her; it was not a sight that many could stomach.

The woman turned around quickly, probably scanning her surrounding for the help she was attempting to summon. Haruka was not able to ponder about it, the woman's scent had reached her; it was the same sweet scent that had bewitched her days ago on the stormy morning. Haruka immediately grabbed a handful of cloak and covered her nose and mouth which was clenched tightly. This scent, there was something about this scent that called to her, causing her to beg for just one little taste. She planted her feet firmly against the roof, not willing herself to move even an inch; in this moment, she did not trust herself.

The scent was so familiar; she had smelt it before – before that morning, but she could not recall. She would have remembered something like this.

Haruka had not noticed when the uniformed officers had showed up, but they had taken the woman away from the crime scene as more were summoned. Haruka kept still, not wanting to be seen. If she were discovered now, she was affirmative they could attempt to connect her to the murders (even though her name would not appear in their records for centuries, nor would be they capable of capturing her even for that matter). They were questioning the poor girl – right here on the street. You would think they would have the common courteousy to take her inside, actually away from the scene and give her time to collect herself.

"-Madam Kaioh-"

She had not been paying attention to the conversation below but the name had definitely caught it. She had heard that surname before, she could not place where, but she knew deep down that she had and it held a great importance to her. Kaioh. It had to have been from her life in London all those decades ago since in this life now, all she focused on was tracking Mamoru. Kaioh. Think, she was forcing herself to think where the surname had been from. Kaioh.

It hit her all of a sudden.

Everything was flooding back to her, memories that had long been forgotten over time.

Her figure, her body, and the eyes she had fallen for all that time ago. That voice, the smell, her smooth skin.

Michiru.

Haruka lowered her hand, initially lowering the cloak that was poorly shielding her from the overwhelming scent. Her eyes were transfixed on the trembling woman below. The officers were done with her, one of the men was going to escort her home while the others dealt with the scene. She watched as said officer and Madam Kaioh began to walk, putting Haruka at a crossroad; Mamoru's scent was fresh, she would be able to locate him – he was outside the city, but… this woman. It was Michiru. It had to be, but at the same time Haruka knew better. Time had long ago claimed her Michiru, but her eyes were telling her that her Michiru was standing in the street below.

If she allowed Mamoru to go, that ultimately meant another murder, did it not? But… would she be able to find this woman again? Haruka did not doubt her tracking skills, she would definitely be able to track down this woman again, but at the same time Haruka did not want to risk it. Nor did she want to risk another innocent person losing their life. She watched at the officer and the woman walked around the corner, they were heading down the block.

Haruka found herself trailing behind them on rooftop.

_**To Be Continued**_


End file.
